Private Sessions and Scores

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All twenty-four of us sit in a grey room that contain twenty-four metal square seats. The Private Sessions begin from the male tribute from 1 all the way to 12. Which means I'll be 17th and Lesa will be 18th. The time reads: "4:28pm." We all sit anxiously, we're not allowed to talk to the other Tributes for some reason, it doesn't come as a shock that none of us even want to talk. After a long chat, Lesa and I both agreed to do what we would normally do, which is to completely ignore Mandrel's order to go and act weak. Instead, both of us decided that if we want genuine Sponsors, we need to act right. As Lesa said: "We're already dead, right?" So to us, it doesn't really matter if we come across as a target by District 1 and 2.

I look over at Ion who is ignoring Coil's bitter tone towards her. She doesn't seem interested, and like the rest of us, she just want to get this out of the way. This is a huge part in our Sponsors and Rankings, but not everyone is as anxious as I thought they would be. I would have assumed there would be people vomiting and refusing to participate, however many of us sit patiently in silence. Mandrel told us during his first years of mentoring, some of District 9's Tributes did nothing because they knew nothing and then were ranked a zero. I cannot remember this, but I'm going to have to believe him.

Finally, the metal gates that separate us from the Training Room drop. "Greyson, to the Training Centre please, Greyson to the Training Centre." An electronic voice says over the intercom. We all look and we all must recognise the same voice as it's the same voice we were greeted with coming off of the train. The voice releases equal emphasis on every syllable. It's dull and there is no District accent to it.

Greyson high fives Vickin and Cleeara and gives his sister a hug. As I examine the relationship they have, it bothers me they're actually brother and sister. They must be more scared than they're putting on. If I knew my brother had to die in order for me to live, I would definitively be upset. Yes, they're a big topic of these Games, but why are Lesa and a bit of myself, the main people everyone is talking about, and not the Tragic Brother-Sister Tributes? I wonder how their parents feel, either way, losing one child. Do they think the both of them can win? It would be a remarkable Games that would certainly go down in history if they were in the final two.

After ten minutes of everyone sitting in silence, Greyson emerges, sweaty and panting. He must have given it his all. The same goes for all The Careers when they come out after individually showing off their skills. Cleeara is the only one who I take proper notice of. She has her hair tossed around, bits of her face are scratched and it makes me wonder what type of show these guys are going to put on for the crowd.

It's Coil's turn after Cleeara. He gets up, wipes his forehead and begins to shout. "Wooo! Let's go!" I look at Lesa as he confidently walks through the gap into the Training Centre. Even the Careers weren't that cocky. I cringe and put my hands to my head. 

"Shut the fuck up." District 11's male says under his breath. As I take notice of his boy for the first time, I notice he only has one ear. The other ear is squished up against his skin, which makes me imagine what happened to him. Coil looks back once more and gives a little chuckle followed by wink to Lesa. She winks back which is a sight to me.

I look over at Ion who just rolls her eyes to the sky and puts her head in her knees. She isn't proud of him like I am proud of Lesa. I wonder if she thinks she's a goner because she doesn't have a reliable ally yet. I am still very unsure if she trusts me completely.

"What a cock." District 8's female tribute says once the gates close again. The whole room chuckles, and for once everyone, minus the Careers, everyone is getting along. The atmosphere lifts for a couple of seconds but then it dawns on everyone that in two days we're going to going to be killing one another. Then like a click of a light switch, we all return to our dull selves, ignoring one another and going back to silence. I ponder on the thought of us all getting along as friends, although this would be completely against the very idea of The Hunger Games.

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